Who They Were: The Witch Twins
by boring the goose
Summary: A horrible scream ripped from her throat, throwing the whole room out of balance. I had thought the pain she had experienced earlier was horrible. This scream connected me with an unthinkable truth. It could get so much worse. A tale of Jane and Alec.


**Who They Were: The Witch Twins**

_Disclaimer: I definitely do NOT own Twilight, and I definitely do NOT want to. This is just my take Jane and Alec's human childhood._

I heard my wife's screams from the other room and wanted nothing more than to comfort her. She was in pain; she was suffering, because of me. I sat back against the wooden doorframe and closed my eyes. Yes it was my fault, my desperate need for an heir had caused this to pass. And now my spouse, my beautiful, beautiful Clara, was paying for my selfish need.

_You are not as young as you once were_. A voice in my head chimed helpfully. _If you didn't provide an heir, your precious Clara would be out on the streets when you died._ I found comfort in that voice. After all, women delivered babies all of the time. There was no reason to suspect that anything bad would happen to her.

The screaming became louder and I could no longer think of my argument.

I burst through the doors of my living area, where Clara was now in labor. Her beautiful face was contorted in pain, her silky brown hair sticking to the sweat that was pouring from her face. She was sitting up, her legs bent in a position that looked less than comfortable. Her stomach and thighs were covered by a warm cloth, meant to relax her. It wasn't working. But when she saw me, her face relaxed long enough for her to throw me a small smile. My tension didn't ease, and I found myself crossing the room to where she sat. Lovingly, I took up her hand.

"Shoo." The midwife hissed from her position on the floor.

I gritted my teeth. This was my house, my wife, my child. I had more right to be here than she did. "No." I said firmly.

The woman glared at me. "She has been in labor for five hours and the baby has yet to show its face. You presence is only distracting her."

I did not move.

"Go. Or do you really want to inflict more pain than you already have?"

The cruel woman's words stung me, but not enough so that I would leave. "This is my child too. I have a right to be here."

"Is it your child?" I winced at these words. "She confided in me that she thought she was pregnant hardly three weeks after you returned from war. Is it you child?"

I remained firm at my wife's side, though my resolve was weakening. _How am I to reply to an accusation like that?_ I thought anxiously. _My Clara would never…_ But that was just it. My wife had never been just _my_ Clara. She had had so many suitors before me. It wasn't as if she didn't have options when it came to that field. _Clara loves you_. I thought firmly, but again, I wasn't so sure. I knew that _I_ loved _Clara_, and I had seen nothing to suggest that she didn't return those feelings. But I simply did not _know_.

"Is that hesitation I sense?" The midwife asked sweetly. "Are you really unsure who this baby's father is?"

I glared at the woman. Damn her, she was trying to get me to abandon my own wife. "This is my wife. Whether or not I fathered this child is of little difference. She is my wife, therefore, this child is mine. I will not leave her."

Clara had not heard any of our conversation, she was too engrossed in the pain. "Bruno," she said quietly, softly squeezing my hand. "Your baby is a girl."

After that, the midwife did not protest my involvement.

It took a while, an excruciatingly long while, Clara's screams piercing me to near insanity. _How could I let this happen?_ I thought bitterly. _Why did I do this to her?_ It wasn't until almost a full hour later that I found the answer, holding my newborn son in my arms. Clara had been wrong. The woman rushed to another room to diligently clean the baby. Meanwhile, I held my wife close to me, kissing her thick hair. "You did it." I murmured softly.

She beamed, her face still flushed with the glow her pregnancy had given her. "You helped me."

At that moment, I loved her more then I could ever recognize. I loved her more than anything on this cruel earth. It was so perfect, I thought I would remember this moment for the rest of my life. Then something happened that made me want to forget it completely.

A horrible scream ripped from her throat, throwing the whole room out of balance. I had thought the pain she had experienced earlier was horrible. This scream connected me with an unthinkable truth. It could get so much worse.

The midwife all but sprinted back into the little room, shoving the boy back into my arms. "Take the baby and go to the kitchen." Her voice was urgent, not taunting like it had been earlier. Her brow was creased with worry.

"She's my wife—" I began loudly.

"Dammit, get that kid out of here now! I need to deliver the other baby." I blanched at her words. The first birth had been so hard on Clara. What if she couldn't handle the second?

"There's another?" I asked quietly.

"Yes. I was trying to clean off the first before she went into labor again." Her eyes twitched towards the place where my wife still lay. I didn't move. The boy in my arms began to cry, his wails intermingling with his mother's. The woman's look was pleading. "She won't survive if you are here hovering over her. Please, just take the child and wait."

I looked over at my wife. My Clara. I needed her in many ways, not all of which I could completely name. Slowly, I nodded.

The woman began to work, her movements a bit frantic in their rush. Slowly, I turned away to wait in the kitchen again.

This time was so much worse than the last time I'd been barricaded in here. This time, the screams didn't stop, not even for a moment. Clara was in so much pain; I couldn't even think. Painful as the screaming was, however, it was nothing in comparison to how I felt when there was silence.

Not even taking the angry midwife into consideration, I burst through the door to the living room. I sighed in relief when I saw the healthy baby girl in the woman's arms, only to scream in horror at the sight of my wife, limp on the floor.

"What happened to her?" I demanded. The midwife didn't flinch at my tone.

"She's dead," the woman stated cruelly. "She died giving birth to your daughter."

"That's not true!" I screamed, unable to contain myself. The boy in my arms began wailing loudly. I ignored him. "I don't believe it!"

"Believe it. Now, if you would excuse me, I have a baby to take care of."

I wanted to protest, but I couldn't come up with the words. Instead, I set the crying boy down and rushed over to my wife, my beautiful Clara. Crying silently, I took up her hand. I tried not to notice that it was already cold from death.

"Oh, Clara," I whispered. "Oh my sweet, lovely, Clara. What will I do without you? I love you so much; I can't go on without you by my side. What will I do? What _can_ I do?"

That dreadful woman's voice came from behind me. "What can you do? Raise your children. Name them, care for them! Forget the wife that never loved you. Forget the marriage that wasn't a marriage so much as a one-sided obsession. Live as you did before your wife, and raise your children as they deserve to be raised!"

I shook my head, taken back by the woman's speech. I sensed the truth in her words, but I simply couldn't forget the life I had lived with the woman in front of me. I didn't turn away from Clara as I answered. "I can't do that."

The midwife shoved the now screaming girl into my arms, forcing me to drop my wife's hand. "Then you are a fool," she spat, acid dripping from her tone. With those words, she left me with two crying children and a wife I couldn't hope to revive.


End file.
